


Treasure

by JazzRaft



Series: Festive Food Fluffs [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 18:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: The silliest things make Nyx feel all the more in love with Noctis. He never would have thought novelty pepper lights could make him look so beautiful.





	Treasure

“You okay there, hero?”

Noctis always asked him that when he caught Nyx staring, laughing in subdued exasperation at the prolonged press of attention. Nyx wondered how his face must have looked in these moments, to make Noct’s pink up like that. Did he really look as dopey and dazed as Noct’s concern seemed to indicate?

The prince laughed and blushed and ducked his face beneath his bangs when Nyx looked on without answering for one second too long, pretending like there was anything around him more spectacularly distracting than what Nyx was looking at, right in front of him.

“Nyx! Come on, quit gawking and get me a good price on these peppers.”

Somehow, that was one of the most romantic things Noctis had ever said to him.

Maybe it was just the characteristic Lestallum heat, making him delirious. Maybe Libs was right about him, and he’d just never stopped being enchanted by those childhood fables of waking a sleeping prince with a kiss and living happily ever after in a castle, far, far away.

It always struck him at the most inane moments, when nothing particularly extraordinary was going on. When they were just walking through the most modestly unassuming locales and talking about absolutely nothing of pressing importance – no world-ending conspiracies, no political indignities committed in the tiny span of time they’d taken away from the capital, no archaic doom looming over the kingdom like the fingers of a warlock wiggling over a crystal ball.

Just Noct’s intense aversion towards the bean seller and piqued interest towards the novelty lights decorating the tents.

It was like a camera coming into focus.  The lighting was just right, the framing, perfect, and the composition of the moment centered the subject in such warm relief that Nyx knew this was a picture he would want to cherish forever.

That, or he’d picked up a little too much photography jargon from being around Prompto. That, _and_ he was just as big of a romantic as Crowe liked to tease he was.

He never denied it. That would make him a liar. And his mama didn’t raise any liars.

She always said liars made poor lovers – if they could even call themselves that – and she’d wanted her children to be great lovers. Of everything. She’d wanted them to love the world they lived in, enough to strive for a greater place in it than she could give them on her own. She’d wanted them to love themselves, skin and soul, and love who they chose to be within them.

She taught them to love the storms and the shallows, the moments of trial and the moments of triumph. Every day that she raised them, whether it was in words or in actions, she taught them how to love life.

And she promised that life would return that love. Even when it felt like all it did was abuse them, even when Selena came home crying from a broken heart, even when Nyx came back bloody from the bar some nights, she promised them that if they loved life, they could forgive the storm, and it would pass them by leaving clearer skies than they’d loved before.

Nyx’s storm had lasted ten years. He knew it was over every time he looked into Noct’s eyes, blue as a cloudless day.

When he looked at him now, framed in the bushels of glass pepper lights, Nyx couldn’t help but wonder if life had put the wrong name to his reward. Because surely he didn’t deserve this treasure. Not the scrappy bartender from a nation with a lost name. Not the ruined cinders of a man unrooted by his own failures.

He didn’t deserve Noct. He told him that, often. Noctis merely told him that it took more than one wreck to salvage a sunken ship. If they wanted to stay afloat, they needed to share their broken pieces. He didn’t plan on letting Nyx drown.

Nyx bartered with the pepper salesman in his native tongue, the golden bangles on the man’s arm indicating him as either a native or a descendent raised in a household where Lucian wasn’t the first language they spoke over dinner. Noctis thought that he’d sufficiently distracted Nyx, wandering to the other side of the stall to investigate the bright, waxen bells tumbling from the trays while Nyx bargained.

But Nyx still caught the way Noct’s skin turned golden under the red and yellow novelty lights. Strings of lit peppers decorated the tent-poles, lighting the stall up like a carnival attraction in the center of the rumbling little night market.

The light made Noct’s eyes look like violets, the brilliant red peppers smoldering in the blues of his eyes. Like a mirage, he drifted through the hazy, heated glow of the lights, his smile as delicate as a phantom’s, haunting fingertips over the bursts of color he craved.

Nyx knew he would love it. Where the rest of the world feared the night, Noctis thrived in it. There wasn’t a daemon on Eos more frightening than his dreams. For his sleepless nights, Nyx offered the same remedy for every ailment: damn good food and quiet company.

The night market was by no means quiet, the brightly lit alleys flooded with tank-topped tourists and skin-baring locals enjoying the safety of the lights and the humble marvels that the vendors hawked. There were crates of produce, of course, and burlap bags of grains, and grills lined, corner to corner, with cooking flanks of meat. Stalls were open on every side to better accommodate customers, some fast food vendors in the corners serving tiny tables reserved away from the considerate chaos between the lanes.

Each stall was decorated according to the product they sold. Some took their cues from the pepper salesman with the same novelty lights. Nyx saw strings of emerald pickles, green wires fashioned to look like tomato vines, rows of strawberries, and there was a wine vendor draped in soft grape lights that glowed and waned in a steady pattern akin to a heartbeat.

Nyx finalized the price for the peppers and added them to their small bag of exotic food that had intrigued Noctis. As big and diverse of a city as Insomnia was, there were many foreign breeds of fruits and food that didn’t make it through the Wall. What were considered simple and standard table fare for Nyx’s people was a rare delicacy for Noct’s.

“Think those are the only peppers for sale?” Noctis asked when Nyx rejoined him, glancing greedily up at the cute pepper-shaped lights.

“Only sell what you can eat.”

“Okay, but if I paid him double?”

“Come on,” Nyx chuckled, tossing an arm around his shoulders. “Think the heat’s starting to get to you if you’re seriously considering bribery.”

Noctis had been whining about the sticky weight of the Lestallum air since they first stepped out of the car. The meteoric warmth sweltered like a fever through the narrow streets, clamping Noct’s thin T-shirt to his shoulders.

One of the vendors was selling flavored ice in a small, portable cup – strawberry for Noct, blueberry for Nyx; it had nothing to do with the fact it was the color of Noct’s eyes. They decided to make it their last stop on their leisurely tour of the night market. They’d spent hours there already, and Nyx didn’t know how many more times he’d get stuck going dreamy eyed over how Noctis looked under every string of lights. Though they had plenty of uncommon goodies to take back home with them, there was still so much that Noct wanted to share.

“Iggy won’t forgive me if I don’t take him there at least once,” Noctis said as they returned to their balmy hotel room at the Leville.

“You’re going to expose my secret ingredient sources? How am I supposed to keep my cooking so special?”

“You mean that strange flailing you do in front of the grill is _cooking_?”

Nyx whipped the ends of his jacket after the prince as he fled to the bedroom, laughing like a little goblin through the night. He couldn’t wait to peel off his clothes. Denim liked his sweat a little too much for Noct’s liking. Served him right for wearing those skinny city jeans, Nyx thought.

While Noctis fought off his clothes, Nyx turned on the overhead fan and opened the windows to the balcony overlooking the quiet square where the fountain giggled in the evening. Noctis puffed in relief when he was down to his boxers, flopping back on the cool sheets like a starfish and waiting for his damp skin to dry.

His poor, melted prince, Nyx thought, pulling off his own shirt to discard with the rest. He sunk down on the edge of the bed, old springs screaming out to the summer heat. And maybe he was just being stupid again, but he thought, even run ragged and sloppy with sweat, Noct was still his beautiful little king.

His bared skin was still struck a ruddy shade of gold from the streetlights below, a subtle shine off the sweat making him look even more like a golden idol for Nyx to treasure. His chest moved in an even buoy, up and down in sweet, shallow slumber. He wasn’t asleep, but with his eyes closed and his lips barely parted, floating above the dark blue hotel blankets…

Nyx couldn’t resist waking his storybook, sleeping prince with a kiss.


End file.
